


The Raven and the Reaper

by Xenobia



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, M/M, Sexual Content, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobia/pseuds/Xenobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian gives Undertaker the laugh he so desperately wants, and then he comes up with an interesting way to compensate Undertaker for his time.  Takes place during and after Season 1, Episode 4 of the anime.  Written as a birthday gift for a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Raven and the Reaper

"The Raven and the Reaper"

A Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) fanfiction

**_Author’s note:_ ** _Written for a friend as a belated birthday present. This story takes place during and after Undertaker’s first appearance in the anime._

**_Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. I make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only_**.

* * *

 

None of their attempts to coax information out of the Undertaker were working. Sebastian watched the funeral director closely as each of his companions attempted to meet his demands. Sadly, none of them seemed to be entertaining him enough. The butler observed Undertaker’s long, shiny black nails, the way the man seemed to glide when he moved, and the odd glint of green he could occasionally detect behind the concealing fringe of bangs feathering over his eyes. There was power there, hidden beneath the surface. Sebastian hadn’t sensed an aura like this for a very long time; so long that he questioned his own perceptions.

It didn’t fit. This giggling, drooling lunatic was permanently scarred and far more interested in the empty shells left behind by mortals than the souls once housed in them. Sebastian had sensed hints of another, similar aura before, but it always vanished before he could track it to its source. Undertaker’s aura wasn’t going anywhere, though. The humans in the room seemed utterly oblivious to it, but Sebastian found it impossible to miss. The mortal souls were quiet, compared to this man’s. They were like ripples in a pond compared to a tidal wave.

And Sebastian was getting very thirsty.

"Well, that’s two of you," Undertaker said, his dangling sleeves flopping as he waved his hands. He looked at Ciel with a grin, and Sebastian snapped out of his soul lust with a frown. "What about you, little lord? I’m not laughing yet, and you still need information."

Ciel parted his lips to speak, and the expression on his face said that he didn’t intend to spout off a joke. Sebastian intercepted, staring where he presumed the Undertaker’s eyes to be, behind all that pale hair.

"Then it falls to me," he announced. He looked around at his companions, narrowing his eyes a bit when they settled on Madam Red’s incompetent little butler. Grell was watching him with fawning, doe-like hazel eyes, appearing quite harmless and infatuated. Something wasn’t right about that one either, though.

"Young master," Sebastian said, turning his attention back to Ciel. "Please give me a few moments alone with our host. All of you, wait outside and do not try to come in or listen. I shall fetch you when I’ve reached an agreement."

Lau, already intimidated by Undertaker getting in his face, went out the door without question. Grell soon followed, with his mistress not far behind. Ciel looked up at Sebastian suspiciously, his young face full of questions. Sebastian gave him a little bow, holding his single-eyed gaze.

"Trust me, my lord."

Ciel hesitated for a moment longer, looking to the tall, silver-haired man standing behind his butler. “Very well, Sebastian. I trust that you’ll bring me results.”

* * *

 

He watched the pale, handsome butler curiously as Sebastian turned the lock on the door after Earl Phantomhive left. Undertaker sniffed the air in his direction, confident that he wasn’t mistaken. Sebastian turned back around to face him, and he didn’t recoil when he found himself suddenly face-to-face with the Undertaker.

"You’re very quiet," observed the butler softly, "and quite fast. Your decrepit form is deceitful."

Undertaker smiled broadly at him. “Decrepit? Where do people get that idea?” He flipped his sleeves back and held up his hands, twiddling his long, pale fingers. “I don’t look broken to me.”

Sebastian smirked. “No. Save for the scars on your person, you show no physical signs of damage or age. Despite this, you move in the manner of a befuddled old man. That is, when you aren’t gliding up behind people or—forgive the comparison—looming over them like a vulture.”

The Undertaker snickered softly behind his hand. “I like you, Sebastian. You’re amusing.”

"I think you’ll find me less amusing when I inform my master that you aren’t human." The butler was smiling politely and handsomely, but the look in his ruby gaze said that he wasn’t teasing in the slightest.

Undertaker stepped a little closer to him, the heels of his boots making him stand a bit taller than Sebastian. “You sound quite certain of that, butler.”

Sebastian nodded elegantly. “I am. The one thing I’m not entirely sure about is _what_ you are. I know you aren’t a demon.”

"A demon, like yourself?" Undertaker grinned, positive that he was correct, now. He’d seen a glimpse of a telling, magenta glow in Sebastian’s eyes. It was so fleeting that he might have thought it was his imagination, if there weren’t other things in the butler’s mannerisms to give it away.

Sebastian’s smile grew crooked. “And _you_ sound quite certain of that.”

Undertaker chuckled. “I’ve been around for a long, long time. Much longer than even you, I imagine.”

"The Black Plague?"

The funeral director nodded, his top-hat bobbing with the motions. “And before. I collected quite a few of the souls that departed during that outbreak, in fact.”

"Then I was correct," said the butler in satisfaction. "You are a grim reaper."

"Retired," answered Undertaker. He took his hat off and made a graceful bow. "At your service."

He straightened back up and put the hat back on. “Well, now we know one other’s secrets. I suppose you plan to blackmail me for information? Threaten to tell everyone that creepy old Undertaker is actually a death god in the flesh?”

Sebastian shook his head, and the polite smile returned. He was quite a handsome fellow, with his slightly mussed looking black hair, narrow features and crimson-shaded bedroom eyes. “To what end? Who would believe me, other than my young master? Even if he took my word for it, he would still insist that it’s no reason not to do business with you any longer. You’ve been a Phantomhive informant for years.”

"Generations, actually," corrected Undertaker. "I’ve been watching over that family since I retired from my position. I’ve even collected a few souvenirs, along the way." He patted the chain belt he wore around his waist, where several keepsake lockets hung like macabre charms from a bracelet.

Sebastian glanced at them. “So each of those contain something from a member of the Phantomhive family, since you began to work for them.”

"Indeed." Undertaker slapped his forehead. "But here I am, talking all about me. What about you, butler? I assume you aren’t with young Ciel for the coin payment."

Sebastian smirked. “We have a contract, he and I. The conditions of that contract require me to help him track down those responsible for the slaughter of his parents and his subsequent violation. Until that task is complete, I am his completely, and I must aid his endeavors. As such, I require information concerning your latest ‘customer’, as my master requested.”

"Hmm." Undertaker took a seat on one of his coffins, and he tapped his nails on the lid absently. "Well, you’ve surely entertained me, but you haven’t given me a first rate laugh, Sebastian. That was the price we agreed on, I believe."

Sebastian bowed slightly. “I’m not much of a comedian, I admit, but perhaps I can offer something else. How much entertainment would be required to equal this ‘first rate laugh’ you desire so much?”

Undertaker looked him up and down, grinning. “I’m not sure you can provide it.”

"I am a butler of house Phantomhive," insisted Sebastian in his dulcet, cultured voice. "I can and will do whatever is required of me, to aid my master."

Undertaker’s brows went up beneath his hair. “My, my. Isn’t that…interesting.” He examined the demon covertly, interested in spite of himself. “I’ll tell you what; I haven’t seen a demon in a very long time, and never up close. Show me what you look like underneath that mortal skin you’re wearing, and I might tell you what you want to know.”

Sebastian’s face was like chill marble, perfectly still and flawless. “I would like a guarantee, before I expose myself.”

Undertaker hastily bit his lip and struggled to swallow a bubble of laughter at those words, uttered without any apparent intent of punning. He brought his mirth under control with difficulty.

"Ffft…ahem, yes." He coughed into one hand and slapped his chest with the other one. "Pardon me, I inhaled some coffin dust. Fair enough, Sebastian. If you put yourself on display for me, I solemnly vow to give you and your master every lovely, bloody detail about the body I’ve just prettied up. If I find you interesting enough and you’ll agree to return after hours to let me study you, I’ll even agree to provide future information pertaining to this case, free of charge. No further laughs or entertainment needed."

The demon regarded him warily. Undertaker grinned with anticipation. The opportunity to study one of Sebastian’s kind, up close and personal, was quite a temptation. He wondered if the butler was a beauty or a beast, underneath that suave, dapper exterior. Either one would be equally intriguing.

"What do you say, Sebastian?" prompted Undertaker. "One peek now for the information you want, and a more intimate look later in exchange for free services later on."

Sebastian smiled crookedly at him. “What exactly does this ‘intimate’ look entail, if I might ask?”

Undertaker shrugged, flipping his hands and making his sleeves flop around again. “A little poking and prodding, nothing that would leave lasting harm. No need to fret, Sebastian; I don’t intend to vivisect you or torture you. I don’t even plan to make it unpleasant at all.”

Undertaker rolled a sleeve back again, and he stuck out a hand in offering. “Shall we shake on it, then?”

Sebastian regarded the hand with hooded eyes, and then he looked at Undertaker’s veiled face. He put his gloved hand in the retired reaper’s, and he shook it. “Very well, Undertaker. I trust you’ll keep your part of the bargain.”

Undertaker clasped his hands beneath his sleeves as Sebastian stepped back, and he grinned at him with interest as his eyes began to glow. Darkness formed around the butler, and the shadow of black, feathered wings arose from his back. Some of the feathers drifted to the floor, twirling gently on the air. Black horns sprouted on either side of the demon’s skull, twisting into a graceful half-spiral that vaguely resembled goat’s horns, until the pointed tips hovered just above his ears. The butler’s clothing altered, changing from the stylish tuxedo with coattails to form-fitting material with the appearance of leather. His shoes morphed into black, thigh-high boots with rather deadly looking sharp, stiletto heels. His lips parted to reveal dagger-like little fangs in place of regular canines. 

Undertaker stared at him, having expected something rather grotesque to contrast with the butler’s attractive human appearance. Upon seeing such demonic beauty before him he blinked, and he expressed his surprised delight in the only way he knew how.

The Undertaker began to laugh.

* * *

 

Sebastian couldn’t help the frown that pulled at his lips. He had seen humans fall to their knees weeping at the sight of his demonic form, had seen them recoil with fear as his clawed hands reached for them. Evidently, Shinigami reactions were quite different. For whatever reason, the Undertaker seemed to find his true form utterly hilarious.

Reminding himself that he was dealing with a being that was not only immortal like him, but seemingly quite mad, Sebastian tried not to be insulted by the reaction. His feathers ruffled regardless, and he started to tap his foot on the floor sharply.

"Are you quite finished?"

Undertaker was outright _guffawing_ , and he splayed himself over the surface of the coffin and slapped the lid with hilarity. Sebastian huffed, glaring at him. He’d been insulted by enemies before. He’d been threatened, spit upon, screamed at, and slashed. He had never, ever been _laughed at_ before.

"Well, I seem to have satisfied your payment request on both accounts," announced the butler with dignity. He morphed back into his human form, brushing off the sleeve of his jacket absently. "I shall fetch my master and his party, while you regain control of yourself."

* * *

 

Ciel’s brows climbed to his hairline when he re-entered the shop and found Undertaker sprawled over his coffin, still giggling. Apparently aware of his audience, he gasped out an excuse. “Give me a moment, little lord. I’ve seen Utopia, and I need to recover.”

Ciel gave his butler a questioning look, but Sebastian simply gestured at the coffin Ciel had been sitting on before, silently inviting him to take his seat again. The boy noticed with some amusement that everyone else was careful to sit down far away from the Undertaker. Perhaps he was more confident than they were because he had a demon butler at his side, but he didn’t find Undertaker as intimidating as his companions did. He simply thought of him as an eccentric lunatic—and possibly a necrophilliac.

Undertaker seemed to recover from his laughing fit, and he got to his feet and tipped his hat at Ciel. “Begging your pardon, young Earl. I’ll fetch some tea for you and your friends, and then we can get started. A deal is a deal.”

* * *

 

"And that’s all I can tell you," finished Undertaker. He finished off his beaker of tea and he set it aside. He got up and paced the floor, his hard-heeled boots hardly making a sound as he strode across the floor.

"Sadistic killers like this don’t stop, ‘till someone makes them." He turned around abruptly, his silver hair whirling around his hips with the motion. "Do you think you can sniff him out, like a good little dog?"

Sebastian looked at his master with interest, waiting to hear his response. Ciel didn’t disappoint him. “I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive,” announced the boy, “and in my family’s honor, I will do the duty assigned to me, no matter what the cost.”

Ciel stood up, regarding the Undertaker with calm and maturity beyond his years. “Your help has been appreciated. I will most likely be requesting further information from you soon.”

Undertaker’s head turned toward Sebastian, and the butler could feel that hidden gaze practically branding him with intensity. “Yes, well, I think we can make a fair arrangement for future business. I found your butler _most_ entertaining.”

Sebastian forced a smile. “Apparently. Am I to presume that you agree to the extended terms of our agreement?”

Undertaker smiled at him in a way that would have given a chill to a human recipient. “Just see to it that you fulfill your part of the bargain, when time permits.”

Sebastian nodded, ignoring the curiously suspicious look Ciel was giving him.

* * *

 

Undertaker actually began to wonder if Michaelis might have lost his nerve after the second night passed with no sign of him. He tried not to be disappointed, but he had so looked forward to expanding his knowledge of demonology. With a forlorn little sigh, he went to the back room and down to his basement from there.

"It looks as though it’s just you and I tonight, dear," he said to the female cadaver waiting for the finishing touches. He resumed where he left off, finishing up the embalming process and stitching her up. He chatted to the corpse casually as he worked; a habit he’d picked up over the years. He had no need for a protective mask or eyewear; the chemicals weren’t harmful to him. He dressed the young lady, kissed her cold, dead hand and eased her into the casket selected for her. He tested the little death bell to be sure it was functioning properly, before closing the casket and sealing it.

"Not that I think you’re going to come back to life and ring it," Undertaker whispered, "not after I embalmed you, at least. It’s just routine, you see."

He started to tell the encapsulated cadaver a joke, but then he heard the sound of the doorbell ringing from upstairs. He stopped, grinned maniacally and clasped his hands together hopefully. “Could it be? Will I get to play with a demon tonight, after all?”

The bell rang again, and it occurred to him that if he kept his visitor waiting, he might lose patience and leave. Undertaker hiked up his robes to avoid stepping on them as he took to the staircase, ascending two steps at a time with eerie, quiet grace.

* * *

 

Sebastian parted his lips to call out, prepared to give up if he didn’t get an answer on the third attempt. His presumption that the Undertaker was out or already in bed for the night was proven false when the door opened and a pale, smiling face peered out at him.

"Mr. Michaelis," crooned the reaper. He stepped back and opened the door wider, making it creak on its hinges. "Please, come in. I’ve been waiting for you."

Sebastian stepped through the doorway as advised, and he regarded his host with quiet, brooding eyes as the Undertaker closed and locked the door behind him. “I apologize for my tardiness. I intended to come last evening, but my duties prevented it. We are getting close to the answer, but we may still require your assistance.”

Undertaker removed his top hat and set it on a nearby coffin. “Then you’re here to fulfill the second half of our bargain?”

Sebastian’s gaze briefly went to the discarded hat before settling on the Undertaker again. He admitted to himself that he was just as curious about the retired reaper as the Undertaker was about him. He wondered about his scars, and he was immensely curious to see what he looked like under that concealing mop of hair. What he could see of his features had a nice, sculpted bone structure to it, suggesting he could have been attractive at one point. The angle of the scar twisting diagonally over his face suggested that he might have lost an eye.

"What do you require of me?" Sebastian asked calmly.

"Well, I’m afraid some restraints may be necessary," answered the reaper, still grinning at him like he was a gift to be unwrapped. "Just until I can be sure you won’t impulsively claw or bite me, you understand. I’m sure you could break out of human manufactured irons at any time you see fit, honestly."

Sebastian inclined his head, smiling faintly. “Indeed. I have agreed to cooperate, however, and if this is what I must do to ensure your cooperation, so be it. I should warn you that I won’t tolerate any ‘studying’ that might cause bodily handicap. My first priority is to my master, and I would be a poor butler indeed if I allowed myself to get injured beyond capacity to protect him.”

Undertaker steepled his fingers. “My, my, you really are devoted to the little lord. Not to worry; I could definitely make use of you.”

Sebastian arched a dark brow. “And what ‘use’ do you expect to get out of me, beyond observation?” He felt a slight thrill of excitement, and he wondered if he might end up in a duel with this creature. He’d never faced off against a Shinigami before, and he knew that Undertaker wasn’t nearly as fragile as he acted. It might prove interesting.

Undertaker reached out to comb Sebastian’s hair over one ear, his nails gliding over his skin and scalp in a caressing manner that wasn’t unpleasant in the slightest. “Oh, that depends on you, dear chap. For now, let’s just get you set up downstairs. The night won’t last forever, you know.”

No, the night would _not_ last forever, and Sebastian was now heartily invested in finding out what his host’s intentions were. As Undertaker observed, he could break free of any common restraints if he desired.

"I’m ready when you are, Undertaker."

* * *

 

Sebastian began to undress as requested, but Undertaker stopped him when he began to remove the pants and boots.

"No need for that. Not yet, at least. I wouldn’t want to make you too uncomfortable, now."

Sebastian lifted a brow inquisitively, but he didn’t argue. Now shirtless and clad only in his otherworldly pants and boots, he stood waiting while his host adjusted the manacles hanging from the chains in the ceiling.

"Is this a thing you do often?" inquired the demon, examining the restraints with interest. "Invite people of interest down here to be inspected?"

Undertaker paused, looked over his shoulder at him, and snickered. “Goodness, no. It’s not a bad idea, though. In truth, I sometimes use these to help prepare bodies for burial. Come, have a closer look.”

Wary but not particularly afraid, Sebastian stepped closer to him. One of his feathered wings bumped against the chains, making the restraints swing. Undertaker caught one and pushed it toward the butler for his inspection. “Adjustable, you see? They can fit any size ankle or wrist, and I can use the crank to raise or lower the subject as needed. Sometimes its necessary to bleed them out, before I can carry on with my work.”

"I see," answered Sebastian with calm interest, running sharp, black nails over the metal of the cuff presented to him. "I do hope you’ve cleaned them, since you used them last. I have standards, you know."

Undertaker chuckled, and he boldly reached out to stroke the top of the folded wing closest to him. “Mmm, soft. And of course, they’ve been cleaned. Any good physician knows to clean his tools between use, whether they use them on the living or the dead. Now, are you ready?”

Sebastian sighed, glancing at the mysterious reaper with hooded eyes. “First, I should like to see the face of the man whom I’m submitting to for this inspection. I’ve shown you my true face. I feel it’s only fair that you reciprocate.”

Undertaker shrugged fluidly. Even that little gesture was eerily inhuman. “Fair enough.” He began to dig in his pockets, until he found some hairpins. He held them in one hand while sweeping his bangs back with the other, and he pinned them in place so that they wouldn’t fall into his eyes again.

"There, now. That’s much better, actually."

Undertaker now regarded Sebastian with the most interesting pair of eyes the demon had ever seen. This was the first time he had ever had the opportunity to look a Shinigami in the face, up close. Sebastian had always seen them from a distance, and only briefly. He had to appreciate the artful symmetry of the reaper’s face, and the shape of the thin, silver brows over silver-lashed eyes. He was quite beautiful in the face, which came as a little surprise. Undertaker’s eyes seemed lit up from within, and there were two separate bands of color surrounding the pupils, constricting independently from each other. The scar running down his face crossed over his left eye, but it did not deform it or cause blindness, evidently.

_~Two irises in each eye. How interesting. No wonder they all seem to need correctional lenses to help them see well. Undertaker seems to be the exception.~_

"It has always been my understanding that your kind require glasses to see well," he observed aloud.

Undertaker opened one of the manacles and made some adjustments to it, his strange eyes narrowed as he worked. “True, we’re all cursed with horrible near-sightedness, but we can still see just fine, close up. I’ve learned to do without glasses, over the years.” He adjusted the other manacle, and then he stepped back and made an inviting gesture, grinning at him in a way that was both charismatic and eerie.

"They’re ready for you now, lovely."

Sebastian refrained from grimacing at the restraints. He stepped closer and held his arms out and up a bit, allowing his host to clamp the restraints firmly on him. They pinched a bit, but Sebastian had endured much worse just recently. He didn’t complain.

"There, now," said Undertaker in satisfaction, running his hands over both of Sebastian’s forearms. His nails dragged along the pale skin, making it tingle pleasantly. His breath smelled like ginger as he leaned in close. "Comfy?"

Sebastian smirked dryly at him. “I’ve never been more relaxed.”

Undertaker chuckled, and his hands slid from Sebastian’s forearms to his biceps, squeezing the muscles lightly in passing. He stroked his shoulders, and his nails pricked gently at the skin in the process.

"Now for the final adjustments," said the reaper. He went over to the crank against the wall, and he turned it to tighten the chains and lift the restraints. He stopped when Sebastian’s arms were stretched over his head, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Not too tight, I hope?"

"They’re delightful," promised Sebastian. "Can we please get on with it? I would prefer to make it back to the manor before sunrise, or my lord’s breakfast will be late."

"Ah, can’t have that, can we?" Undertaker smiled sharply at him, and he glided over to look him up and down. His silver hair moved gently with his actions, catching the light from the lamps like glossy spider’s silk. Sebastian stared into his unearthly eyes as the reaper stopped before him, very close.

"First, I’d like to look at these horns," murmured Undertaker. He reached out to touch the one on the right while the butler stared at him, keeping his expression carefully neutral. Undertaker ran two fingernails over the ridged surface of the horn, tracing the outer curve with the caress of a lover.

"How lovely," he said. His gaze met Sebastian’s again. "Can you feel my touch?"

"Yes," answered the butler.

"Hmm." Undertaker reached into his robes, and he withdrew a little, leather bound book that appeared to be a journal of some sort. He turned away from Sebastian and retrieved a fountain pen from the standing desk in the corner of the room, near the examination table.

"How did it feel, when I touched your horn that way?"

Sebastian stared at him. Was he serious? “It felt like a touch.”

Undertaker clucked his tongue, and he looked up from the book as he turned around and returned to his side. “I’m afraid you need to be more descriptive than that, my dear. Give me a basis of comparison.”

Sebastian frowned, trying to work out how to put it in terms a human or reaper might understand. “I suppose it feels similar to the touch on a calloused area, such as the heel of one’s foot. The sensation is muted, but rather pleasant.”

"Ah." Undertaker nodded in understanding, and his pen scratched over the page as he wrote it down in a jerky script.

"Pardon my saying so, but your penmanship is terrible," announced Sebastian as he watched.

Undertaker giggled softly under his breath, making his handwriting even worse. “Too much time working in the dark, I suppose. As long as I can read it, I don’t much care.”

He finished scribbling his observations down, and he rolled the instrument tray over. Noticing the look Sebastian gave the tray, he grinned brightly at him. “Not to worry, Mr. Michaelis.” He rolled up the instrument sleeve to make room on the tray, and he set the book and fountain pen down on the empty place. “I just needed somewhere to set this down.”

Sebastian’s tension faded, and he smiled politely at the reaper. “Of course.”

Nonetheless, he tested his bonds subtly as Undertaker approached him again. When he again stood inches away from him, the funeral director reached out with both hands to cup Sebastian’s face. He brushed his thumbs over the demon’s lips, making them part impulsively.

"Let’s see those pearly whites," coaxed Undertaker, caressing Sebastian’s mouth in a sensual way. "I had the theory that the longer the fangs, the more distorted the speech. That doesn’t seem to be the case with you, butler."

Sebastian obligingly opened his mouth, staring unwaveringly at his host as Undertaker looked into his mouth.

"They’re quite lovely, aren’t they?" Undertaker smiled, slipping one thumb in sideways to gently press the pad of it against one of them. He made a faint hissing sound and pulled it away with surprise. "And quite sharp, like little daggers."

Undertaker stroked his now bleeding thumb over Sebastian’s lips, smearing his blood over them. “And what about the tongue? I’m curious about the texture of it.”

Sebastian dearly hoped he wasn’t about to stick those long-nailed fingers into his mouth. He was master of his gag reflexes, but he would rather not tempt fate. He was briefly confused and surprised when instead of testing with his fingers, Undertaker slid his fingers through his hair, cupped the back of his head and kissed him. The surprise wore off quickly as the reaper’s tongue stroked the crease between his lips and pushed its way in.

Sebastian gave him points for unpredictability, and for turning what he’d expected to be an unpleasant encounter into something more…interesting. He surrendered his lips to him, having gone without such contact since becoming Ciel’s butler. Undertaker was, Sebastian found, a very good kisser. Their tongues joined and parted, stroked and curled against each other, and Undertaker didn’t seem to mind when he inadvertently pricked his on one of Sebastian’s fangs. The reaper’s long nails dragged over Sebastian’s scalp as he sifted them through his hair in the back, and it felt very nice.

Sebastian began to strain against his bonds again, instinctively wanting to embrace the lean, tall creature lip-locked with him. He frowned into the kiss and opened his eyes when he came to the realization that the restraints weren’t budging. Rather than allow panic to set in, he considered possible causes. Either the Undertaker had mislead him into believing the basement shackles were ordinary irons constructed by humans, or…

He realized the cause, then, and he nearly groaned at his own mistake.

_"I swear that I shall do whatever it takes to find our quarry, young master."_

He’d done it to himself, naturally. He had vowed by the Faustian brand to his master, and then he had promised to Undertaker that he would cooperate with him, relinquishing himself to him for the night.

_~I really should be more careful with such things, in the future.~_

It was too late now. He’d trapped himself with his own words and oath. The best he could do right now was avoid giving it away to his host and hope that Undertaker could be trusted. Sebastian had never dealt directly with such a being before, so for all he knew, the reaper might change his mind and decide to cut him open and see how he worked, after all.

The thrust of Undertaker’s tongue in his mouth distracted him from his dangerous predicament, and Sebastian gave a mental shrug and chose to enjoy it. He generally wasn’t the sort to give over control to another when it came to sensual encounters, but he was rather enjoying the way his companion dominated his mouth. In fact, he was beginning to enjoy it too much. His form-fitting pants were beginning to bulge in an obvious way below the waist, and they didn’t leave much to the imagination or concealment. Undertaker’s tongue caressed his firmly and slowly, withdrew a bit, and then slid back in. He turned his head to kiss him at a different angle, and his free hand slid down Sebastian’s chest.

The glide of those nails over his skin was tantalizing, with a little thrill of danger underneath. Sebastian was sure that the nails were just as capable of inflicting damage as his own sharp claws. They dragged along his torso, leaving lines of white in their wake that soon turned pink. Sebastian forced himself to stop resisting the restraints holding his arms over his head, and he endeavored to enjoy it. It ended all too soon, and he watched the reaper with quiet interest as Undertaker pulled away from him. The double irises were aglow with some emotion—lust being the most probable one.

"Slightly rougher than a human or Shinigami tongue," announced the Undertaker in a slightly husky voice. "But very, very nice." He fetched his book and scribbled it down.

"I fail to see how the texture of my tongue is relevant," said the butler. He smiled seductively when the reaper looked up from his book again, "but I’m happy to be of assistance."

Undertaker grinned back, and Sebastian found himself admiring that smile more and more. When he was tottering around blabbing nonsense, the smile could be considered quite mad. Now, with more lucid side exposed, there was a sensuality to it that couldn’t be denied.

Undertaker replaced the book on the tray, and he loosened and removed the chain belt of lockets around his waist. “Oh? How very generous of you, Mr. Michaelis. I take that to mean you don’t mind if I make myself a bit more comfortable.”

"Not at all," encouraged Sebastian, more than a little curious to see where this was going. He had detected the subtle flirtation in Undertaker’s words and tone when they discussed this bargain, and he appreciated subtlety. Of course, there was a chance that the reaper was merely teasing him and preparing to try and vivisect him, after all.

Undertaker removed the chain and held it up gracefully, dangling it over the instrument tray and the book. Watching Sebastian with his bright, toothy smile, he dropped the chain on top of the book. He then opened his robe with deft, graceful intent, revealing a longer, tighter garment beneath it. He dropped the outer robes over the examination table, and he again closed the distance, moving like an air spirit. The long garment parted from the waist down with his movements, revealing a glimpse of black leather and high-heeled boots underneath.

"And I thought I was a master of disguise," murmured Sebastian, his gaze sweeping over the tall, lean form with appreciation. The boots hardly made a sound as the Shinigami approached him. "All of those layers do well to conceal your nature."

Undertaker stopped beside him, rather than in front of him, and he reached out to feel along the length of Sebastian’s right wing. He stroked along the radius, petting the cover of soft feathers. “We can’t go announcing our true natures to just anyone, can we, Sebastian?”

He ran his hands over the wing in a sensual glide, and the butler’s gaze grew heavy-lidded with pleasure. Undertaker noticed it, and his eyes twinkled merrily as he smiled at him. “Would you mind extending this for me, lovely?”

Sebastian slowly did as asked, mindful of the hanging lanterns and equipment nearby. He couldn’t recall the last time anyone touched his wings this way. Not even other demons tended to take the time, and Undertaker was slowly stroking the length of it, taking his time to familiarize himself with it. While he massaged it from the shoulder all the way to the primary feathers, his free hand explored the pinfeathers and secondaries. He stroked the feathers between thumb and forefingers in a loving manner, and Sebastian’s eyes drifted shut with pleasure.

"You like this, don’t you?" The voice was low, amused and husky with desire.

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked into the green-gold, silver-lashed gaze. “I’m a bit of a whore for it, actually.”

Undertaker’s mouth split into a wide smile, and he laughed heartily. “So I’ve noticed,” he said between snickers. He took a moment to compose himself, and then he made another request. “May I pluck a few, Sebastian? For study, of course.”

It probably wasn’t a very good idea to allow a reaper to take samples of his demon body for study, given the history of adversity between their two species. However, a few feathers had already drifted to the floor when he manifested the wings, as per usual. It made him wonder why Undertaker wanted to pluck any of them. He could see a teasing glint in his eyes, and he presumed there was some hidden, erotic purpose behind it.

"Feel free," Sebastian found himself saying, wondering where this was going.

Undertaker immediately selected a feather, pinched it firmly at the base and plucked it free. The sensation was unreasonably exhilarating, and another thrill went through Sebastian. The reaper chose three more feathers, rubbing the spots soothingly after plucking them. He leaned in close to Sebastian when he was finished, and he ran the feathers over the demon’s left ribcage as he spoke into his ear.

"Thank you. I’ll just put these beauties safely away, and we can continue."

The sensation of the Shinigami’s warm breath against his ear made Sebastian restless inside. He was too dignified to speak his arousal aloud, but the warmth spreading through him was surely evident to his host. He willed his body to settle, silently reminding it that he was in charge. It did no good. Undertaker finished placing the feathers on the instrument tray, and when he turned around again, his gaze immediately fell on the prominent swell of Sebastian’s crotch.

"You can fold that back in, if you like."

Sebastian misunderstood him at first, and he very nearly informed the reaper that demonic anatomy did not function, that way. Seeing that the Undertaker’s glowing eyes had shifted from his crotch to his wing, he understood. An exceedingly rare blush stole over Sebastian’s cheeks, coloring their pallor to a faintly rosy tone. He folded his wing close, and sheer impulse nearly made him wrap both his wings around himself to cocoon him and hide him from view.

"My, my," mused Undertaker, another grin spreading over his lips. "Aren’t we compliant? And pink!"

Sebastian parted his lips to remind him that he’d agreed to cooperate—and perhaps to try and excuse his blushing—but Undertaker swooped in abruptly, his face only a nose-length apart from Sebastian’s. “I don’t recall ever having seen a demon blush before. How lovely! I may have to keep you here to myself, after all.”

"Our bargain," reminded the butler, almost sullenly. He’d been told by his master that he blushed with adoration when in the presence of kittens, but he couldn’t remember ever doing it in any other circumstance.

"Ah, yes." Undertaker sighed. "And there is the contract with young Phantomhive, too. I couldn’t keep you if I wanted to, could I? A shame, but we’ll still have fun together while the night lasts."

Undertaker chuckled under his breath, reaching out to pet one of Sebastian’s wings again. “It’s very much like a giant raven’s wing, save for the fluffy bits. It’s funny, Sebastian; did you know that some people depict the Grim Reaper with a raven perched on his shoulder?”

Sebastian raised an elegant brow. “I doubt I would fit on your shoulder in my present form. I can, however, take the form of the bird in question.”

"Can you?" Undertaker looked delighted. "Show me."

Unfortunately, Sebastian was well and truly bound to his present form at the moment, thanks to his lack of foresight with his verbal oaths. So long as he was restrained in the irons, he could neither change forms nor break free.

He wasn’t about to admit as much to Undertaker, though.

"I’m afraid that won’t be possible," he lied smoothly, "at least, not until after the terms of my contract with my young master are fulfilled and our bargain closed. Shifting into my animal form was forbidden upon formation of our contract. He dislikes anything resembling carrion birds, and the raven form closely resembles the crows that fed on the remains of his family’s house servants, in the fields."

* * *

 

Undertaker thought it was a rather elaborate explanation, and though the demon’s sculpted features wore an unreadable expression, he sensed that he was lying. He found it interesting, but he didn’t press his alluring guest further. Sebastian obviously found him attractive; or at least, he found his touch favorable enough to invoke arousal. Though he hadn’t really expected things to take a turn like this when he asked to inspect the demon, Undertaker was very much interested in seeing how far he could take it.

He had never had his way with a demon before, and Michaelis—sensually fluffy creature that he was—seemed to want him. He could see it in the cat-like ruby eyes as Sebastian gazed back at him. The parted lips were inviting, the poise of his restrained, graceful body was relaxed. Perhaps the latter was only due to pride, though. The demon butler wasn’t the sort to give away his discomfort, uncertainty or fear.

More interested now in a sexual encounter than exploring demonology, Undertaker kept up the ruse. He didn’t quite know how demons thought, outside of rather prejudiced assumptions put down by Shinigami society. Demons had always been considered little more than pesky beasts by Undertaker’s kind, and up until he retired, he went along with that belief. He had learned so much more about humans since he gave up his position in Dispatch, though, and his findings derailed so many misconceptions about them. Perhaps, like human beings, demons weren’t so very different from Shinigami, after all.

"Perhaps you can show me the raven form once those conditions are met, then," he said. "I think I’d like to test out some reactions."

The demon’s expression remained neutral. “Such as?”

Undertaker smiled again and leaned in to blow gently in his ear. He chuckled in delight when goosebumps sprang up over the pale arms, and Sebastian shivered slightly in response.

"I see some things are universal. How about this?"

He embraced him then, but he didn’t press his body flush against his. Instead, he ran his nails up Sebastian’s spine in a sensual glide. The butler’s lips parted further, the slit pupils of his eyes expanded, and the feathers of his wings ruffled. Undertaker did it again, and then he caressed beneath Sebastian’s shoulder blades, near the base of his wings. He reached around with one hand to run his nails over his right horn again, and he smiled happily when the heavy-lidded eyes went blank and closed.

Unable to resist, Undertaker kissed him again. He pressed his lips against Sebastian’s, and he pulled away a second later before it could get heated. The demon murmured a low protest, finally exhibiting some frustration.

"How is any of this relevant to research?"

Undertaker laughed softly, and he traced Sebastian’s lips with the tip of his tongue. “I’d like to see if demons respond the way humans do, of course.”

"So you _have_ done this to someone before.”

Undertaker shrugged. “Not under these circumstances. I don’t need to chain a human up to ensure good behavior, after all.”

Sebastian gave him one of those sexy little smirks that Undertaker had begun to associate with him. “Yet these chains can’t hold me, if I truly wish to break free.”

Undertaker grinned at him. “Your word binds you more than those chains, Mr. Michaelis. I think you’re quite secure.”

* * *

 

Sebastian couldn’t fully conceal his disconcertion. So, Undertaker knew. Maybe he’d known all along, even before Sebastian himself realized the truth of his situation. Refusing to allow it to trouble him more than it already had, Sebastian forced a smile to his lips.

"What would you like to try next then, Undertaker?"

"Hmm, I do like how cooperative you are," complimented the reaper. A draft came in from upstairs, and a few strands of Undertaker’s long, pale hair blew towards him and tickled his skin with a lover’s caress. "Quite the tame demon, aren’t you?"

"Only when under oath to be so," assured Sebastian, his smile growing sharp. "Let us hope I never need to demonstrate that fact for you, in the future."

"No?" Undertaker grinned right back. "I think it would be interesting. For now, though, I want to find out if the rest of you is anatomically compatible."

There was no mistaking his meaning, and Sebastian throbbed in his pants at the thought of this encounter ending with a coupling. He never would have considered joining with one of Undertaker’s kind before, but then, he’d never really met one like him. Reapers tended to keep their distance from demons and vice-versa, contending for human souls to devour or preserve.

The buckles of his pants were being undone, and Sebastian gazed into Undertaker’s eyes without comment, not fighting it.

"Will your jewels have pretty little horns on them as well, I wonder?" purred Undertaker, "or will they be a nice, flushed shade of pink like your cheeks?"

Annoyed that he’d been caught blushing again, Sebastian used dry humor. “Will it frighten you away if the former is the truth?”

"Oh, nothing frightens me," assured Undertaker. "Not even demon cocks. Although I might be speaking prematurely. Can’t say that I’ve ever actually _seen_ one before, so you might just be the first to give me a scare in centuries.”

"I would rather impress you," answered Sebastian truthfully, amused in spite of himself.

He stopped talking when the reaper kissed him again, and this time Undertaker allowed him to dominate the kiss. The reaper sucked on his tongue as Sebastian probed his mouth with it, and he found it so erotic that he nearly groaned with desire. He grunted instead, when Undertaker’s free hand suddenly cupped him between the thighs and gave him a firm squeeze. He used enough pressure to make Sebastian’s balls ache just a little, and then he began to massage his package.

"Everything seems agreeable, so far," murmured Undertaker against his lips. He finished unfastening the buckles, and he stopped groping him to open his breeches, exposing his erection and the testicles beneath it. He looked down at it, and Sebastian saw his mouth curve into a smirk of satisfaction. "Quite agreeable, in fact. It bears a lovely pink flush, as suspected."

Undertaker traced the lines of Sebastian’s pubic bones with his fingernails, before skimming them over the frame of dark, fine hair surrounding his genitals. He looked up from the area to gaze into the demon’s eyes again, and a thin lock of his silver fringe escaped from the pins holding it back, to dangle over his left eye.

"Do you feel the way I feel, butler? Does this give you pleasure?" He slicked his thumb over the damp, pink-flushed tip, rolling the protective hood of skin back to expose it completely. He massaged it, while curling the fingers of his other hand around the shaft. He smiled when Sebastian’s breath escaped in a huff, and he kissed his chin with velvety lips.

"I assume that means yes," Undertaker said. He gave the shaft a stroke, and he stopped fondling the tip to tickle the demon’s balls with his fingernails, making him tense up. He chuckled. "I have no intention of neutering you, dear Sebastian. No need to be so rigid."

Undertaker laughed at his own pun, and he palmed the ripe orbs he’d been teasing a moment ago, squeezing and kneading them with skill that made Sebastian instinctively push into his touch. Undertaker sobered at the reaction, his strange eyes watching the demon’s face with fascinated, aroused delight.

"You _are_ pretty.” Undertaker kissed Sebastian’s throat as he tilted his head back. “So very pretty.”

Sebastian had no answer for him. He found it more disturbing to be considered “pretty” in his demon form than “ugly” or “fearsome”, and he vowed never to let Ciel see it. He would never hear the end of it from his young master, if Ciel found him as endearing to look at in this form as Undertaker apparently did. The young Earl did have rather unusual tastes, after all.

His breath quickened as the Undertaker stroked and squeezed his most sensitive parts. The kisses, nips and licks against his throat made him tingle, and his desire for the reaper was fast becoming outright need.

"Undertaker," he said softly, his voice sounding breathy and wanton to his own ears, "I would like to be free of these chains, now."

The Shinigami chuckled against his throat. “Not just yet, I’m afraid.” He stopped fondling him and he stepped back to regard him, ravishing him with his eyes. “I can loosen them for you, though. I think I’d like to keep you in chains, until we’re finished here. That shouldn’t be such a new thing for you, given your position with the Earl.”

Sebastian refused to take the bait. “Those chains are figurative, of my own making, and I wear them for my own benefit. We can play this your way, though. So long as it ends in satisfaction, I’ll continue to humor you.”

Undertaker seemed to find this amusing. “Then let’s get you a bit more comfortable.” His gaze settled on Sebastian’s exposed erection. “One last question, though. How far are you willing to bend the rules our perspective races have lived by, for all this time?”

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. “Shinigami have rules. Demons have standards.” He gave the reaper a suggestive, leisurely once-over, taking in his appealing form without hiding his admiration. “You meet mine.”

Undertaker’s smile returned. “Aren’t you the charmer?”

He went over to the crank on the wall and he reversed it, lowering the chain from the ceiling until Sebastian could drop his arms. He kept going, allowing more chain to feed through the rung in the ceiling until it was pooling around Sebastian’s booted feet, on the stone floor. Sebastian nudged the coils with one foot to move them out of the way, and he relaxed his arms, letting his bound hands drop over his groin. He looked expectantly at Undertaker as he locked the crank in place to keep it from rewinding or allowing more give.

"Well?"

Undertaker clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tilting his head. His ghostly hair brushed against his hips as he advanced on Sebastian again, flicking open the buttons of the long, fitted garment he wore over his leather pants. Sebastian watched with more than a passing interest as the funeral director’s ghostly pale, lithe chest and torso was slowly revealed to him. Undertaker moved in a teasing way, circling around the demon with a smile, keeping out of his immediate reach as he parted the dark material of his clothing.

His body bore further scars beneath his garments. There was a long scar twisting diagonally over his chest, angling the opposite direction of the one on his face. There was yet another one beneath that across his belly, smaller than the one on his chest. Someone had obviously done their best to carve him into little pieces at some point, only to fail. Sebastian found that appealing and worthy of respect. Then again, he had a fondness for the scarred, the damaged and the shattered.

Tired of waiting, the demon made use of his own abilities—as much as he was able to, with the iron chains binding him. He closed the distance between himself and his circling host in the blink of an eye. Undertaker was surprised enough by the move to widen those riveting eyes, and Sebastian smirked, kissing him on the lips before he could react. His wings did what his arms could not, and he enveloped the reaper in the soft, feathered blackness of them to pull him close. His hands and wrists were trapped between their bodies at a convenient location as he kissed Undertaker deeply, and he fumbled with the buckles of the leather pants he wore.

"I should like a feel, myself," Sebastian said softly, his voice a deep, resonant demand between kisses.

Undertaker chuckled and put his arms around his neck. “Goodness, is _that_ what I do to people? I admit, you gave me a start for a moment.” His comment ended in a low, hybrid sound between a groan and a moan as the demon got his pants open and fondled him. He combed his nails through Sebastian’s hair and met his eyes again, allowing him to stroke the long staff of his arousal at his leisure.

"Well then, it seems we _are_ biologically compatible,” teased Sebastian with a satisfied smirk.

He admired the size and shape of his companion’s endowments as he felt him up, and he pushed his own arousal against it and embraced him tighter with his wings. Undertaker licked the corners of his mouth, then his lips. He pushed his tongue between them demandingly, thrusting into Sebastian’s touch, and the demon gave way for it. Undertaker began to direct him over to the examination table, and Sebastian hesitated for just a moment, ceasing the kiss to regard him suspiciously.

"Believe me," said Undertaker in a slightly unsteady voice, "the very last thing on my mind right now is a medical examination." He grinned again. "But we will need some support, if we’re going to keep playing. Wouldn’t you agree?"

Sebastian agreed completely.  

* * *

 

He was still frankly surprised that he’d managed to convince the demon to bend over the examination table, but Sebastian had thus far had proven to be unpredictable. Undertaker could relate to that. He himself didn’t think quite like the others of his race. He was too old, had seen too much, and he had no desire to behave in a manner befitting a reaper, any longer. This meant that coupling with a demon was no longer off limits. He ran his hands over Sebastian’s wings, and then his back. The demon was propped on his elbows, relaxed despite the now loose chains spilling down the other side of the examination table from the manacles still clamped around his wrists.

"Such smooth, silken skin," observed Undertaker with admiration, lightly running one hand over Sebastian’s slightly arched back. He allowed the hand to slip lower as he combed through the soft feathers on the demon’s right wing with the fingernails of his other hand. Sebastian shivered with delight, murmuring that it felt good.

"Yes, I know you like that."

Undertaker smiled. He didn’t fool himself into thinking this creature was tame, no matter how docile he acted now. He’d heard that the Phantomhive butler was fond of cats, and right now, he was like a cat himself, enjoying a good scratch from a skilled hand. Undertaker watched with amusement as Sebastian bowed his head, practically purring in pleasure at his touch. He let the hand caressing his back drift further down to the small of his back, and then he tugged his breeches down to expose the fair, smooth roundness of his bottom.

"You’re sure about this?" murmured Undertaker, moving on to the other wing to pet it. There were drawbacks to having nails like his, and one of them was the inability to prepare a partner with his fingers, without inadvertently stabbing them inside.

"Positive," answered the demon. He turned his head to regard the reaper with lusty, narrowed eyes. "I find it odd that you seem so concerned about hurting me. It won’t, I assure you."

Undertaker grinned. “Oh, I don’t mind causing pain, my lovely. It must be consensual, however, and this part must _always_ bring pleasure as well, or it isn’t worth it. I could still fetch an instrument and some proper lubricant, you know.”

"It isn’t necessary." Sebastian gasped subtly as Undertaker’s hand curved around his hip to stroke his erection again. "Demons don’t require it. We can adjust our forms accordingly, if we need to."

Curious to see if he was telling the truth, or too aroused and impatient to bother waiting, Undertaker stopped scratching Sebastian’s wing and he slipped a finger between the pale perfection of his buttocks, stroking against his target area intimately. He felt evidence of Sebastian’s claim against the tip of his finger, and he bent the finger and gently pressed the second knuckle against the spot, entering him shallowly without the fingernail. It was snug, but adjusted enough to accommodate him without excessive discomfort.

Satisfied and more than ready to continue, Undertaker stopped and positioned himself, rubbing teasingly against his guest’s waiting entrance with the head of his cock. When the demon let out a low, primal grown of impatience, he knew he risked having the tables turned on him. After all, he hadn’t specified that Sebastian had to bottom for this encounter. Unfortunately, Undertaker wasn’t blessed with the butler’s ability to self-prepare without outside manipulation, so a quick turn of the tables would be very uncomfortable for him, indeed.

"Don’t get snarly, now," admonished the funeral director. He petted his wings again, one at a time. "Just a bit of teasing."

He entered him then, pressing into his tight warmth slowly. He closed his eyes and sighed, bowing his head as he sheathed himself inside the demon. His hair fell forward to caress Sebastian’s back, and he reached around his hips again to fondle his erection. The demon’s breath caught, his tightness quivering around Undertaker’s penetrating sex as he adjusted to the breach. Undertaker bowed over him, and he kissed him between the wings as he gripped one of the feathery appendages by the shoulder, squeezing it reflexively.

Undertaker closed his eyes; sliding in all the way to the hilt and holding it steady there. He stopped squeezing Sebastian’s wing and he grasped his left horn, forcing him to turn his head to the side. A human certainly wouldn’t have been able to do it, but Undertaker possessed strength to match Sebastian’s. He rocked his hips a little, settling his hardness more firmly inside of him. He had the pleasure of hearing a faint groan issue from between Sebastian’s parted lips, and he knew that he had him now.

Undertaker shifted on top of him so that he was stretched out over his back, his chest and stomach pressing intimately against his skin. He spoke into Sebastian’s ear as he slowly withdrew to the tip.

"I’ve read that some demons like to be subdued this way, when they mate." He gripped the horn harder and wrenched Sebastian’s head to the side firmly, while sliding his hand up and down the length of his cock faster. "Does this do the trick for you, lovely?"

Undertaker thrust back into him deeply, firmly and at an angle that made Sebastian’s body tense. The soft moan that burst free was suggestive of pleasure, and undertaker began to pump his hips slowly, confident that Sebastian had adjusted enough to endure it. By the look on the visible side of his face, he was enjoying it more than he cared to admit. His dark, arching brow was furrowed and he looked as though he was struggling with himself.

Undertaker lowered his mouth to Sebastian’s and kissed him again. He nearly yelped when the demon bit down enough to pierce his tongue, but the pain only enhanced the pleasure, and he started taking him harder. He yanked on the horn in warning, forcing Sebastian’s head back until he stopped biting his tongue. Forgiving him for the attack, Undertaker caressed the inside of his mouth with his bleeding tongue and allowed him to suck the blood away while the injury healed. Fortunately, Shinigami recovered quickly from injuries, though their regenerative abilities weren’t as strong as that of demons.

Undertaker released Sebastian’s horn when the demon began to moan in earnest, and he stroked his hair in soothing contrast to the hard, sharp thrusts of his cock. He slowed the speed and friction of his hand on Sebastian’s erection, and he gentled his kiss. Undertaker employed a combination of aggression and comfort, letting his hips drive back and forth as instinct demanded, while being more mindful of his touch and kiss. Sebastian began to rack back against him, his lips snarling against his.

Sensing another impending bite, Undertaker grabbed his horn again and gave it a firm tug. “Nuh-uh-uh,” he panted, smiling with pleasure and delight. “I’ll be the only one doing the piercing, from now on. Settle yourself, my raven.”

* * *

 

Sebastian groaned and his body ached with pleasure, pain and need as the reaper took him with a thoroughness that he’d only experienced once before, with another demon. All of Undertaker’s gentle care from before was gone now, replaced with the authoritative intensity of an alpha. Used to being the one delivering such a performance rather than being a recipient of it, Sebastian couldn’t hold back his cries of pleasure.

Every pelvic thrust was delivered with precision and control that Sebastian himself wasn’t sure he could have matched. Undertaker stroked the sensitive spot inside of him with each pass, filling him with unbelievable sensations. Whether it was sheer dumb luck or pure skill, it was rapidly making him lose control of himself and forget about dignity. Sebastian began to buck back against him, and the slap of flesh on flesh grew more frantic as Undertaker’s excitement also grew.

His breath was hot against Sebastian’s mouth and cheek as the Shinigami’s efforts brought them both closer to release. Undertaker’s hand stroked him faster, and his other hand released Sebastian’s horn and stroked along his left wing, making it unfold and spread reflexively. Undertaker’s hoarse, low groans mingled with Sebastian’s as they strained over the table together, their bodies writhing in an act that cared nothing for ancient feuds between supernatural races. Their instincts took over, and Undertaker had nothing to say about it when Sebastian’s claws dug grooves in his wooden examination table.

Finally, he couldn’t delay his orgasm any longer. His ecstasy came to a peak that had Sebastian seeing stars, and he came hard against the side of the table. Undertaker pushed deep and hard into him, groaning as the demon’s rhythmic clenching around him drove him to join him in release. He filled Sebastian completely and he laid his forehead against his back, between his wings. Undertaker held his pulsing cock in his hand, stroking it until the last of Sebastian’s seed was expelled. When it was spent, he released his hold on it, and he kissed his back. Sebastian could feel his lips grinning against his skin.

"Well," Undertaker said after several minutes of recovery, "that was very…informative."

Lying halfway across the table with his cheek resting against the wood, Sebastian opened his eyes. “Indeed.” A smile curved his lips. Undertaker was still inside of him, though he was softer, now.

The reaper withdrew slowly, caressing Sebastian’s bottom with both hands as he pulled away. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun, Mr. Michaelis. My services are yours, free of charge for the duration of this case.”

Undertaker stepped away, and Sebastian heard him rummage around. A moment later, he returned and he wiped Sebastian off with a damp cloth. The butler accepted the treatment, closing his eyes again. He felt the reaper’s nails comb through his hair again, and it felt good.

"I can offer you a coffin for what remains of the night, if you like," offered Undertaker, bending over Sebastian again to speak into his ear. Sebastian could feel his leather pants brush against him, already fastened again.

"No, thank you."

Sebastian straightened up with little difficulty, and Undertaker obligingly backed off to give him some room. Sebastian turned around to face him, and he held his bound wrists out meaningfully. He could feel the compulsion of the agreement lifting, now that he had procured the funeral director’s oath of service. He could break free of his restraints now, but he gave Undertaker the chance to free him, instead. 

"I must return to the manor and prepare for the morning."

Undertaker nodded in understanding, and he placed his hands over the manacles. They fell open instantly, falling to the floor. The silver-haired reaper smiled at Sebastian, letting his eyes rove over him once more as the butler shifted back into his human form.

"It’s nice to see that nothing shrinks, when you change back into your mortal skin."

Sebastian glanced down, smirked, and deftly pulled up his trousers. “Some things remain fairly consistent.”

He thanked Undertaker politely when he handed over his shirt, jacket and tie, and he watched the reaper as he dressed. Undertaker retrieved his own discarded clothing, and Sebastian felt some regret when the Shinigami’s pale flesh was again concealed beneath layers of black, flowing clothing.

"I would like to hear your story, some day," admitted the demon. "If you ever feel like sharing it."

Undertaker unpinned his hair and grinned at him as the silver fringe once again fell over his eyes. “Maybe one day, my fine demon butler. We’ll see. Thank you for a lovely evening. Feel free to come by any time if you ever feel…restless.”

Sebastian nearly told him the wasn’t likely to have time to spare for such personal pleasures, but considering how this encounter turned out, he found the idea more than a little appealing. A butler had to take his pleasures where and when he could, after all. He looked at the Undertaker with eyes that shifted from human to demonic, and he offered a sensual smile of promise.

"You may find me knocking on your door sooner than you think, Undertaker."

* * *

 

"Sebastian, where were you last night?"

The butler kept pouring the tea, without hesitation. He kept his eyes on what he was doing and his handsome face retained calm dignity. “I was securing an agreement with the Undertaker. He will no longer require payment for any information he provides regarding the Ripper case.”

Ciel lifted a brow. “I see. And why couldn’t you make this arrangement during daylight hours?”

"We’ve been rather busy, young master," reminded Sebastian. He dropped a sugar cube into Ciel’s tea and he brought the tray to him, setting it in his lap on the bed. "Besides, can you think of a better time to discuss business with a funeral director? We have a ball to attend this evening, if you recall. I wanted to procure this agreement while I still had time to spare."

Ciel waved the air dismissively. “Very well. Lay out my green suit for me, today.”

Sebastian bowed—rather stiffly. “Of course, my lord.”

Ciel watched in puzzlement as the butler moved away from him to retrieve the requested clothing articles from the wardrobe. It was very subtle, but Ciel could tell he was moving gingerly. “Why are you walking that way?”

Sebastian paused with one gloved hand hovering over the knob of the wardrobe. He half-turned to look at him, and he smiled. “Nothing to worry about, sir. I merely slipped on a patch of ice, early this morning. It will heal by noon.”

Taking his word for it, Ciel sipped his tea and read the newspaper. He didn’t see his butler’s satisfied little smirk.

* * *

 

-The End  

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered what in the world Sebastian said or did to make Undertaker laugh so hard, while everyone was outside. ;-)


End file.
